


Sick

by strikecommanding



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Death, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Somnophilia, Stalking, Symbiotic Relationship, Tentacle Sex, Teratophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 13:25:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17002488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikecommanding/pseuds/strikecommanding
Summary: Your charming neighbor Jack isn't everything you think he is.





	Sick

**Author's Note:**

> an old commission i wrote featuring host!jack morrison and symbiote!reaper :~)

Moving out on your own to a brand new city should have been scary, but you were oddly assured. You weren’t without a plan, of course, because you were going where the money was. Your new job promised to treat you well so long as you were willing to put in the effort. Thankfully your apartment wasn’t located too far, about a ten minute train ride and a few minutes of walking, so that eased your concerns about transportation. It was also in the heart of the bustling downtown district, which meant you’d have no shortage of interesting places and activities to check out.

To top it off, the other tenants in your building were all very pleasant people. In particular your next door neighbor Jack was both a sweetheart and a heartthrob. Though not by too much he was certainly older than you, evident in the few strands of hair that ran more silver than gold. Upon first glance his features were rugged and hard, but he was always so polite to you that you’d learned better than to be intimidated by him. In fact, he reminded you of a mentor of sorts with the way he would fuss over you and how shared conversations typically ended with him imparting some life advice. It was endearing and you always said hi whenever you had the chance.

Opportunities to speak with Jack were abundant as of late due to a seemingly constant shortage of various sundries in your kitchen. Minor things like sugar or eggs always seemed to run out far faster than they should have in a unit occupied by only one person, but you attributed it to forgetfulness. Maybe you’d been too caught up in your own head to realize how quickly you were using up the things in your kitchen. Regardless, at least one day out of the week saw you knocking on Jack’s door and asking to borrow something.

It was a cozy Sunday morning when you crossed the short distance between his unit and yours, hoping to get a cup of sugar for your coffee and to make some pancakes. You were more sheepish than usual when the door swung open to reveal Jack already dressed and ready to take on the day, while you stood before him still in your pajamas. “Morning, Mr. Morrison.”

His smile was as bright as the sun, warming your cheeks just like it. “How many times do I have to tell you ‘Jack’ is fine before you start listening to me?”

You grinned, goofy and just the slightest bit embarrassed, as your shoulders rose and fell in an expressive shrug. “I mooch off of you so often I feel like I need to make it clear I have some manners. Show you I respect you and that I’m not just taking you for a ride.”

He crossed his arms as he leaned against the doorway and it took every ounce of your aforementioned respect to not stare. “I’d say it’s pretty disrespectful of you to make me repeat myself.”

It was a good-natured quip, but his body language was so firm it almost felt like a reprimand. But you knew Jack was just like that so you didn’t let it get to you, and instead conceded to his wishes by changing your tune. “Okay, Jack. Got a cup of sugar to spare?”

He straightened up and walked back into his unit, leaving the door open so you could follow him in. “Sure thing, sugar.”

You rolled your eyes and managed a mostly sincere chuckle. Jack was a good-looking man, but he truly aged himself with the lame jokes and remarks he threw out on a near-constant basis. You’d made sure to tell him this once you were both familiar enough with each other, but he just brushed you off with that killer smile of his. Said he was okay with being a lame old man if it made you laugh.

His kitchen was neat and orderly when you walked in, suggesting he either hadn’t had breakfast yet or he’d just finished. He gestured for the measuring cup you’d brought with you before crouching down in front of some cabinets. “So, how’s work?”

“Ah, you know,” you shrugged, leaning against the island in the center of the room. “It’s working. Nothing too exciting yet so I’ve got nothing to report. How about you? Research going well?”

In your time as Jack’s neighbor, you’d come to learn that he worked at a research facility on the other side of the city. Going off of appearances alone, you never would have pegged him to be a scientist. Underwear model, you mused as your eyes appreciated the curves of his muscles through his skin tight shirt, maybe. He stood across from you at the island with your measuring cup and a bag of sugar in hand, replying, “Research is good. Great time to be in pharmaceuticals.”

He handed you a full cup of sugar, which you accepted graciously and raised in the air as if you were making a toast. “I’ll remember that if my job ever goes south. You’ll get me an in at your company, right?”

“Hmm… might not be as easy as just giving you some sugar every now and then.”

“Noted,” you laughed before putting a pause on the quips so you could express genuine gratitude. “Thanks, Jack. Please, if you aren’t busy, wanna drop by my place later tonight? Let me cook you something as thanks for all the stuff I’ve been borrowing?”

Jack just shook his head as he led you back to the door and out into the hall. Again he leaned against the doorway in a manner that made the bulge of his biceps look _obscene_. “I appreciate the gesture, but maybe another time. I’ve got special dinner plans.”

You wondered about the curious twinkle in his eyes when he said that, but at the risk of breaching a topic you weren’t welcome to, you left it alone. Simply told him you understood, “maybe next time”, and disappeared back into your own unit. There, you busied yourself with feeding your cat and watering the houseplants before finally getting started on making breakfast.

You only resented yourself the tiniest bit once you found your thoughts finally wandering to the disgraceful topic you’d attempted to keep out of your mind. You tried not to be too hard on yourself, however, because it was impossible to not be curious about the love life of a man like Jack. He was handsome, charming, successful, and an overall pleasant guy to be around. In fact, you were kind of surprised he wasn’t married already. Maybe he was too charismatic to be tied down by any one relationship for long, especially one as serious as marriage. That was when you got to wondering just what his type was.

You wondered if it was tasteless of you to be curious about this sort of thing. After all, it was very likely Jack only saw you as a neighbor and nothing more. You were probably only setting yourself up for disappointment by mulling this over. In spite of it all, you wondered who he was planning to meet tonight. Maybe a co-worker? Or someone he knew outside of work? Either way, they were probably smart and sexy just like him.

As you finished up your meal and dumped your plate into the sink, you realized you truly had it bad. Maybe your fixation on Jack was just indicative of your need to go out and date in general. When you first moved out here, meeting someone was very low on your list of priorities. You just wanted to make sure you were settled, able to do your job, and comfortable. By now you were all of the above, so maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to start putting yourself out there.

—

In a city as large as this one, you figured it wouldn’t be hard to find someone you could casually date. What you didn’t count on was just how close that person would be. Lately you’d been getting quite cozy with one of your co-workers and you were hoping to get to know him a bit more intimately on a date. Since you were talking to him more and more and you were beginning to feel confident enough to ask him out yourself, you’d also been fluffing up your wardrobe so you could doll up and stick out in his mind. By the time you were finished with your shopping sprees, however, you realized just how much work you’d made for yourself.

Seeing as you had old clothes and new clothes alike that needed to be washed, you figured it was as good a time as any to have a laundry day. Because of your latest haul, you had to make a number of trips between your own floor and the basement, where the washers and dryers were all located. You had the elevator to yourself as you made your way up so you began idly sifting through your clothes, feeling everything to ensure they were dry.

Mindlessly palming through your laundry resulted in you discovering the absence of a particular piece of clothing. You took advantage of your solitude in the elevator by lowering the basket to the floor and crouching in front of it so you could determine if you simply couldn’t find your panties among the other clothes, or if they really were missing. They were one of your favorite pairs and you were sure you’d thrown it in when you gathered everything that needed to be washed, yet your search came up empty. The thought that they’d gotten left behind downstairs made you groan.

The elevator abruptly stopped at the first floor, causing you to scramble for your clothes and stand upright in a normal position. The doors slid open to reveal none other than Jack, who was apparently just coming back from a run if his athletic wear and ragged breathing were any indication. Seeing your charming neighbor made you even more conscious of how you presented yourself, and the fact that you were currently carrying a basket full of all sorts of lacy unmentionables. You hoped your embarrassment wasn’t too obvious as you slapped on a smile and greeted him. “Hi, Jack.”

When he turned to look at you, you were taken aback by the uncharacteristic wild expression on his face. In all your time knowing Jack, it had only ever been smiles and pleasantries. You’d never seen him so much as frown, so to be on the receiving end of an angry stare was jarring. But it must not have been intentional as a look of epiphany crossed his features, like he’d only just become cognizant of where he was and who was beside him. Slapping his hand over his eyes and rubbing them, he spoke your name through clenched teeth. “Ah, hey. Sorry. I’m just a little…”

He didn’t seem to be able to find the words to finish that sentence, so you offered, “Tired?”

“Huh?” he looked back at you, seemingly more confused than you were. His blue eyes were wide and expressive.

“Well, I just assumed you must be tired after coming back from a run,” you explained, gesturing towards his clothes. Hefting up your basket, which you’d thankfully become much less conscious of in light of Jack’s odd behavior, you thought to add some levity to the atmosphere with a casual remark. “Unless you’re such a Superman you haven’t even broken a sweat.”

Your quip seemed to have gotten through to him as it finally broke him out of the odd stupor he’d been in, that familiar killer smile stretching across his face. He scratched the back of his head and replied, “I’m good, but I’m not that good. Though I’m flattered you would think so highly of me anyway.”

For the remainder of your ride up to the ninth floor, you and Jack made decent enough conversation for you to forget all about your intention to go looking for your panties back in the basement. Maybe your cat had taken them and simply stashed them away somewhere in your unit. Whatever the reason, you were sure they would turn up soon.

—

You didn’t know how long you’d been lying in bed undisturbed before a peculiar force suddenly made its presence known behind you. You were on your stomach, faced buried in your pillow, when something slimy and thick began gliding up your back. It left an oily trail along the skin exposed by your riding up T-shirt. Then the odd slime-like material suddenly took on a more rigid form, not so much that it lost its elastic quality but just enough to be able to push and pull your clothes out of its way.

Your first thought was sleep paralysis. You were no stranger to the phenomenon nor to the creepy apparitions it brought with it. Once, when you were younger, you’d experienced sleep paralysis while lying on your back, and you swore you’d seen an old woman composed entirely of shadows and glowing purple eyes sitting atop your chest. You knew it wasn’t real, but the sensation of some unknown weight pushing down on your rib cage had been hard to dismiss. So you knew from prior experience that your sleep paralysis terrors were probably a bit more vivid than the average person’s.

But _this_ was far beyond just vivid.

You could feel your T-shirt being pushed out of the way and your panties and shorts being tugged off of your legs. The slick tendrils slowly working you out of your pajamas could only be described as tentacles, and the thought made you shiver. You were familiar with the typical sleep paralysis apparitions like the ominous figure looming in the corner or the old woman sitting on your chest, but you’d never known anything quite like this. You wondered if maybe you were in a dream, but your body was paralyzed and unable to wake you up.

Uninhibited by your racing thoughts, the tentacles behind you kept moving. A fat and fleshy but sturdy tendril wedged itself between your body and the mattress, lifting you up just enough so your bare breasts could be squeezed and groped by its smaller appendages. Your nipples were worked up into hard peaks, and you couldn’t moan from the stimulation even if you wanted to. It seemed your mouth was just as useless as the rest of your body, unable to move save for falling open in a silent cry. One of the fatter tentacles capitalized on this by rubbing its blunt tip against your dry lips, lubricating them with its slick. You forced your heavy lids open to get a look at the probing appendage, and you felt a chill run down your spine when you saw it for the ink black ooze it was.

You didn’t get the chance to observe it for long before it shot past your lips and deep into your throat. You felt your body gag but you personally didn’t feel it; perhaps it could be attributed to your dream-like, half-asleep state. The tentacle seemed to know your limits, however, as it never pushed in too deep. Just enough to keep you feeling full.

Behind you, more tentacles shot out and groped at every inch of skin they could get. Your arms were useless dead weight at your sides, but they were gathered up and secured behind your back in the event that you might fight. More sticky tendrils latched onto your legs and spread them, leaving you exposed to what was starting to feel like a large humid mass bearing down on you. All the tentacles were shooting out of _something_ that had you caged against your own mattress and you weren’t cognizant enough to react with the right amount of urgency. You’d had your fair share of wet dreams in the past, but never one mixed with what was surely a nightmare.

You did feel yourself twitch in response to not one, but two thick tentacles against your skin, one probing at each of your holes. They were slick, thankfully, because they didn’t go in slow. Your body jerked forward in response to their sudden thrusts, and you tried to moan around the tendril working itself in and out of your mouth. You still couldn’t hear yourself making a sound, but you could only imagine the colorful noises you would be making in response to being completely stuffed and jostled around.

Before you could lose yourself entirely to being ravaged, you were dimly aware of the solid mass lowering itself to hunch over you. As it grew closer, more tentacles wrapped around you until they melted together in a suffocating blanket of blackness. You breathed harder out of your nose. It wasn’t exactly tight or constricting, but the sensation of being swallowed up was far from pleasant.

Just when you thought the creeping blackness would reach far enough to engulf your head, it abruptly paused. You were too scared to try to look at it over your shoulder. So it came to you, a meaty tendril appearing in your peripheral vision and curling around your face, as if it were caressing you. At this point you did have the courage to at least open your eyes, and you found that this appendage was not black but a grimy red similar to that of a tongue.

That realization, along with the hot breath just beside your ear, made your blood run cold. One glimpse to the side treated you to the sight of a gaping maw lined with dozens of sharp, inhuman teeth. Outside of the teeth, you could make out what looked like a sort of white mask that had split open to give way to the being’s mouth. You couldn’t tell if it was open to say something to you or to bite you, and in that moment, you couldn’t decide which possibility terrified you more.

You shot up and out of your slumber with such force you nearly fell out of bed. Both your heart and your mind were racing as you tried to distinguish between dream and reality, and determine which of the two you were currently in. The apartment was still dark and your cat still curled up by your feet, so you put two and two together to come to the conclusion that you’d been dreaming. A weird, creepy, and _vivid_ wet dream, but a dream nonetheless.

Slowly, you crept a hand under your sheets and between your legs. You were embarrassingly wet. Maybe this was your subconscious’ way of foreshadowing how you hoped your upcoming date with your co-worker would end, but you didn’t understand why it needed a horrific monster to get this message across. The experience probably would have been much more pleasant if you hadn’t been scared out of your wits.

Despite how aroused you were, your fatigue won out. Just the slightest bit unnerved, you curled up under your sheets and hoped you’d fall into a slumber much less eventful than the one you’d woken up from.

—

It had been a dream, of that much you were certain, but you couldn’t help the unease that leaked into your daily life because of it. Walking around the city had you constantly looking over your shoulder, as if someone or something were following you. It was easy to be a wallflower or to blend in with the crowd here, and yet you felt as if someone had managed to single you out. For whatever reason you felt like there was always a pair of eyes on you.

While your dream was certainly a factor in all of this, you assumed stressors at home were also to blame. Every time you did laundry, something went missing. Sometimes T-shirts, often underwear. It seemed like too much and at too high a frequency for you to keep attributing it to the dryer eating them or your cat hiding them. You were so stressed that you weren’t eating regularly, but in spite of that, food still inexplicably disappeared from your kitchen. You were nearing the end of your rope, and just when you thought your paranoia couldn’t escalate any more, the situation quickly went from uncomfortable to flat-out disturbing.

Your date with your co-worker was tonight, and you thought a quick walk through the brisk evening air might snap you out of your daze and calm you down. You’d gotten ready a little earlier than necessary just so you would have time to both mentally prepare yourself and clear your mind. For the most part, you’d succeeded; taking the time to get out of your own head had been good for you. However, when you made it back to your apartment and you started fishing your keys out of your purse, all of that hard work went out the window.

Your door was open. Not just unlocked, but _open_.

It was open just a crack, allowing you to peer inside the tiniest bit, but the fact that your home was vulnerable during your brief absence at all worked in tandem with your pre-existing anxiety to push you towards the brink of a breakdown. You backed away slowly, fingers curling over your temples as if you were losing your mind and you were trying desperately to hold onto it. While you couldn’t be sure of the whereabouts of your clothing or how your groceries were being depleted so quickly, you knew for a fact that you always closed and locked your door whenever you left. Finding it in this state when you hadn’t even been gone for 20 minutes confirmed what you’d been suspecting for a while now, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be validated now that you realized you were right. All your mind knew in this moment was numbing fear.

You almost screamed when the door moved ever so slightly. But when you realized it was just your cat walking out to greet you, you settled a bit. Seeing her apparently well and undistressed put you somewhat at ease, but you couldn’t bring yourself to relax enough to walk into your apartment. Delicately, you scooped your pet up and stood on wobbly legs. You didn’t know what you were going to do; all you did know was that you wanted relief and safety as soon as possible, and the only potential safe haven you could think of was right across from your door.

You hoped Jack was home, and that he wouldn’t be bothered by the sight of you on his doorstep yet again. But if there was anyone in this building with whom you felt safest, it was him. You raised a trembling fist to his door and rapped your knuckles against it three times. It was so soft and gentle you almost thought he hadn’t heard you, but the door swung open to reveal your golden-haired savior just as you were about to try again. Jack looked ready to greet you with a smile until he saw the ghastly look on your face. At that, he furrowed his brows and immediately questioned, “What’s wrong?”

“Can I come inside?” you asked in a voice that was uncharacteristically small. He didn’t grill you any further, instead stepping aside to let you in without another word.

You watched him close and lock the door before allowing him to guide you into the living room. Once you were seated, you hugged your kitty to your chest like she was a security blanket as Jack sat across from you, brows still knit with concern. “Are you all right?”

“I… no, I’m not,” you admitted as you sucked in a shaky breath. You looked to him for permission before letting your pet go so she could wander around and you could finally let out the tears that had been threatening to spill. Jack was quick to offer you tissues from the box on the coffee table, which you graciously accepted. “I-I think someone’s been following me… stalking me, and taking my things…”

You watched Jack’s eyes widen with alarm. “My god, have you called the police?”

“No… I didn’t realize until just now, when I came home to find my door open.”

His sympathetic expression became pensive, like he was trying to figure out the most efficient way to help you while still trying to accommodate your shell shocked state. He started by reaching over and putting a comparatively warm hand on top of yours, and just the reassurance that you were with someone whom you trusted was enough to take some of the oppressive weight off your shoulders. Slowly, Jack offered, “Maybe you’d feel more comfortable if you were with someone tonight.”

Your heart leapt at the kind gesture, but you didn’t want to impose. Voicing your concerns to him just made him shake his head.

“Don’t worry about that. This is serious,” he assured you, tightening his grip around your hand the slightest bit. “If someone really does have access to your unit, I can’t, in good conscience, send you back there to fend for yourself.”

A few stray tears dripped from your eyes as you found comfort in his touch. “Thank you, Jack. Really.”

He offered to call the police for you right away, but you expressed that you didn’t feel comfortable reporting anything just yet. You didn’t even bother mentioning your fear that the police would have nothing to go on since you knew nothing about your apparent stalker because hearing it out loud would only stress you out more. What you needed now was good company and peace.

Everything in your unit suddenly seemed tainted by the thought that an unknown person had access to all of it, so you borrowed from Jack what you could. You gratefully accepted a change of clothes from him: a T-shirt you knew to be skin tight on him but was three sizes too large on you, and a pair of boxers that would have to do for shorts. You were so disturbed by your current situation that you couldn’t even think to be flustered.

You’d finished changing and stepped back out into the living room when you remembered you’d had plans tonight. Your date was probably already on his way to collect you but you were too shaken to go out. Cancelling on him through a cryptic text made you feel awful, but you weren’t willing to go into details.

Jack emerged from the kitchen in time to see you frowning at your phone. “What’s the matter?”

“Ah… well, I had a date tonight,” you mumbled, dragging yourself over to sit on the couch. You sent a very unsatisfying message to your date to call things off before setting your phone aside. “I feel awful standing him up after he came all this way… but I have good reason, don’t I?”

“Of course you do. I’m sure he’ll understand,” he assured you, tugging on a jacket and pulling his keys off the table. You looked up at him curiously and he explained, “I figured you haven’t eaten yet, so I was just going to pick something up. The shawarma place across the street okay with you?”

“Oh, you don’t have to go to that trouble,” you started to say, and then the sound of your stomach obnoxiously growling cut you off. Heat radiated off your cheeks but Jack simply smiled.

“Right. It’s no trouble at all, you know,” he insisted, but something gave him pause. “Will you be okay here on your own for a little bit?”

The thought of being by yourself made you shiver, but you were sure you’d be fine so long as you watched him leave and you locked the door as he left. Besides, you were already imposing; you didn’t want to force him to order delivery on your behalf. So you put on your bravest face and told him you would be okay. He smiled as he went for the door.

“Five minutes, tops.”

Jack’s exit left you alone with only your cat and your thoughts, and one of those things was markedly more pleasant than the other at this moment. You followed your cat as she strolled through the unit, sizing it up and sniffing things out. She amused herself for a while with a tassel on the end of his curtains before wandering around again. It seemed fine to leave her to her own devices until she became curious about Jack’s bedroom, easily nudging the door open and slipping inside. On the one hand you were hesitant to waltz in and invade his privacy, but on the other, you couldn’t just leave your pet to her own potentially destructive devices. So you elected to follow her.

You avoided being nosy in that you didn’t start snooping through his stuff, but you couldn’t help your wandering eyes. A person’s bedroom always had more personality than the rest of their home, and an attempt at putting together a clearer picture of Jack’s character was a welcome distraction from the darker thoughts that plagued you this evening.

Like the rest of his apartment, the primary color scheme in his bedroom was a subdued blue. Neutral, clean colors like navy and white. Other than the bed, the room featured a dresser, a TV and its stand, and a bedside table. On the other side of the bed was a door you could only assume led to his closet, which your cat was currently trying to wriggle into.

You called out her name in a scolding manner. “Stop that, this isn’t your house!”

Quickly, you went to pick her up and pull her out of Jack’s belongings. Compared to the rest of his home, his closet seemed to be the only messy area. You supposed everyone needed someplace to let their hair down and you couldn’t blame him in this case. But you couldn’t help but notice something that stood out starkly among the clothes littered on the ground. Most of them were dark and neutral-colored T-shirts and dress shirts, so it was easy to notice a pair of lacy women’s underwear lying among the pile.

Your face grew hot at the idea that you might have discovered a possible souvenir from one of Jack’s previous lovers. That alone should have been enough to make you turn and quickly walk out of the room, but something stopped you. Something that told you it was an awful coincidence you had the same pair of panties as some woman Jack was seeing.

The keyword being ‘had’. You hadn’t seen this pair in your possession for some time now.

You knew it was wrong, but your decision to rifle through the rest of the clothes on the floor was fueled solely by satisfying your paranoia. By no means did you want to be right about that creeping suspicion, that awful feeling that worked its way up your throat like bile, but it would at least answer the question of where your clothes were disappearing to. One issue would be taken care of only to open up a whole new Pandora’s box.

So you kept looking, and you were mortified by what you found. More lacy unmentionables were buried among his clothes, each one resembling a pair of yours that had inexplicably gone missing over the past few weeks. In fact, they didn’t just resemble them; you were positive that you finally found your lost clothing. You weren’t sure you could even say you were happy about it considering where you’d found them.

If discovering your panties in Jack’s closet was dizzying, then the realization of what he’d apparently been doing with them was downright sickening. Several pairs were stained with white streaks you knew for a fact hadn’t been there when you first lost them. Your mind was initially racing with questions but this disgusting epiphany rid you of any thought that didn’t have to do with getting the hell out of here. You didn’t know where you were going to go, just that you needed to be as far away from Jack as possible.

You scrambled to get out of his clothes and change back into your other outfit before grabbing your pet and dashing out the door. Where could you go on such short notice? You didn’t have family in the city, nor any friends with whom you were close enough to crash at their place for the night. The thought of checking into a pet-friendly hotel crossed your mind as you stepped out of the building and passed by the adjacent alleyway, only to stop dead in your tracks at the sound of a blood-curdling scream.

A cry of distress ringing through the night would have been chilling in any context, but the fact that you seemed to recognize that voice made your stomach drop. You’d never heard him scream like that before but you were certain it was your co-worker. Following that shriek was a wet, snapping sound you couldn’t readily identify, though you had a feeling that looking over to determine what it was could only end poorly for you.

In spite of your best judgment, you stopped and looked. Illuminated by the moonlight and a dull street lamp was a male corpse, lying in shambles in a pool of blood. Everything from the elbows up was gone, the flesh and bone crudely perforated as if his upper half had been ripped from the rest of his body. Or bitten off, you could assume as you lifted your watery eyes to the tar black monster that was standing him, still chewing.

Its face resembled that of an owl’s, white as clean bones. You recognized this beast. It was the monster from your dream.

When it turned its attention to you, you wanted to run. One step backwards and your legs failed you, wobbling and collapsing as you fell on your ass. Perhaps sensing danger, your cat hissed and jumped out of your arms. You were vaguely aware of soft voices approaching the apartment building, and you could only hope your pet would wander in with the tenants rather than trot off on her own. You worried for her well-being more than your own because you couldn’t even imagine the possibility of getting out of this situation safely. The monster had just killed your date and you were certain you were destined to meet the same end.

It turned towards you, allowing you to see that its body was muscular despite how fluid-like its constitution appeared to be. The ground trembled slightly beneath each heavy step, and you couldn’t even conjure up the courage to try to crawl away. The sheer size of the thing had you floored, made you completely submissive to your impending death. You only hoped that, after you, it would be satisfied and wouldn’t harm anyone else.

When its mask-like face split open to reveal that familiar set of razor sharp teeth and a long, bulbous tongue, you shut your eyes and braced yourself. You waited for it to strike, your heart heavy with anxiety and dread. But then you heard it growl your name in a deeply inhuman timbre, and it was shocking enough for you to look up.

You wished you hadn’t. It was terrifying enough to be cornered by one monster, but you were apparently caught by two. The beast’s face split in half, revealing a far more familiar but no longer as comforting one beneath. Jack was staring down at you, his one exposed eye wide and unreadable. You couldn’t understand what you were seeing. He was wearing the monster’s skin like a suit, one that made him even bigger and stronger than you already knew him to be. You wanted to ask him what was going on and at the same time you wanted nothing to do with him, torn between attempting to speak or just getting out of there immediately.

You just couldn’t make your decision fast enough. Jack’s eyes flicked from you to behind you, perhaps taking note of passersby, when a large black hand grabbed you by the ankles and dragged you further into the alley, away from any prying eyes. You tried to suppress the queasy feeling in your stomach when you saw how easily he kicked aside the dead body of your co-worker.

Your name was spoken again in the same demonic pitch, but it was so much more unnerving to watch that sound come out of Jack’s mouth. He could likely see that conversation with you would be fruitless while you were still rattled by his current appearance, so he did… _something_ to make the encompassing black mass fade away. It was like it pulled back and retreated into him, permeating through his clothes and presumably his skin. You watched his eyes gleam and shift through different shades of silver and gray before being restored to their natural cerulean hue. “Hey. I told you to stay in the apartment.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. Of all things he could have chosen to say to you after the horrific sights you’d witnessed, that was what he chose. Swallowing hard in a vain attempt to lubricate your inexplicably dry throat, you stammered, “Jack, what… what was that?”

His responding smile was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Up to this point, you’d only ever known Jack’s smile to appear as if it were made of sunshine itself. What you were staring at now turned your blood to ice. “Reaper, come say hello.”

You were scared stiff to the point of being unable to scream when a sticky black mass erupted from over Jack’s shoulder and came face to face with you. It was that mask again, close enough now that you could get a better look at every slick detail. The mask split open so the being could open its mouth and speak. **“Even prettier when you’re awake,”** it purred in the same monstrous tone you’d heard earlier. You were so caught up in your own fear and confusion that its words and the implications they held sailed right over your head.

Rolling his eyes and letting out a curt exhale, Jack took it upon himself to explain, “This is Reaper. He’s… a parasite I picked up from work.”

**_“Parasite–”_ **

“Sorry. He’s a _symbiote_ ,” Jack amended, carefully looking you over to see how you were taking in this information. You were trying to understand, even if it wasn’t obvious under the outward terror on your face. Maybe he could tell as much since he continued speaking. “Symbiotes are an inorganic alien race that need an organic host to survive on our planet. An organic host, and organic matter to feed off of.”

Briefly, you glanced past Jack and Reaper to the mauled corpse just behind them. You felt lightheaded when you slowly returned your attention to your neighbor, who wore a wide grin void of any comfort or warmth.

“I’ve only scratched the surface of extraterrestrial life with my discovery of symbiotes. When I told you research was good, that was the biggest understatement of the year.”

“You–” you choked out, pausing only when you heard how embarrassingly small and fearful your voice was. After taking a moment, you tried again. “You told me you worked in pharmaceuticals.”

In an instant, his expression went from indescribable to unhinged. He straightened up and advanced forward until your back was against the brick wall of the adjacent building, and you flinched when he caged you inside his arms. “And you believed that? Sweetheart, what I research is not in the science of making people well. It’s in making them perfect. Superhuman. That’s exactly what I’ve achieved by combining my own biology with that of a symbiote’s.”

You watched more black tendrils shoot out and wrap around the left side of Jack’s body until he once again resembled the half-man, half-monster you’d first seen just a few moments ago. Worse now was that he reached out to touch you, the slimy ooze against your skin making you gasp and squirm.

From what you could see of Jack’s face, he looked quite pleased. “Super strength, instant regeneration, and the ability to elasticize the body to take on any shape or form… all of that in exchange for a few measly humans for sustenance. When you weigh the benefits against the losses, there isn’t even a question here.”

Reaper’s hand settled around your neck with minimal pressure, but he might as well have been choking the life out of you with how hard you were breathing. Tears stung the corners of your eyes as you whimpered out, “You _killed_ him…”

“I had to,” Jack snapped. “He would have taken you away from us, and we can’t afford to lose you.”

You gasped when the hand around your throat suddenly tightened and your feet were no longer touching the ground. It was chilling to be handled so roughly by a monster while looking into Jack’s baby blue eyes.

“The success of my research has rendered regular humans obsolete,” he rasped, a far cry from the clear and confident voice you’d previously known. Jack looked like a man possessed by his insane desire to mess with natural human life. “Humanity can be improved and strengthened if we weed out those who aren’t compatible with symbiotes, and research on those who are. I wanted to explore the idea of a symbiote copulating with a human, but my higher-ups stopped me. Told me it was too radical. So I took matters into my own hands.”

Paralyzed by both fear and Reaper’s bruising grip, you had no choice but to listen as Jack’s insanity unfolded before you.

“The first time I entered your apartment, it was innocent enough. All I wanted was a used glass, or a hair off your hairbrush. Anything with your DNA so I could take it back to the lab and see if you were compatible with Reaper,” he explained. “You are. You’re a perfect mate for him and he wanted you immediately, but I needed you to trust me first. Everything I took from your kitchen was… a little snack for him, and incentive for you to come visit me every so often.”

Even through your steadily rising hysteria, you managed to stammer out in confusion, “M-my… underwear…?”

At that, Jack wore an expression that was almost apologetic. But he was still terrifying to you. “Those were for my own personal use. Reaper isn’t the only one who wants you, you know.”

Apparently tired of all the preamble, Reaper decided to take it upon himself to speed things up by sliding a tentacle into your dress and feeling up your quivering form. The sensation of the oily black ooze against your skin brought you back to the night you’d dreamt of him, or at least you thought it was a dream. But being cornered like this now and assaulted with sights, feelings, and sounds that were all too familiar had you aghast with the realization that you hadn’t been dreaming that night. Reaper’s face extended from Jack’s body so he could be close enough to size you up and drink in your fear. You tried to put on a brave face but you couldn’t conceal your disgust when his maw split open to reveal his teeth and inhumanly large tongue. **“Jackie thought he was a gentleman for waiting, but all he did was make it so I couldn’t calm down. I needed you, and I ran him ragged until he understood that.”**

Hearing Jack talk nonsense was bad enough, but it was so much worse to have his alien parasite speak to you himself. You couldn’t tell if Reaper was smiling in response to the look on your face or if he simply always looked like that. But all it took to get you to flinch away from him was the feeling of his slimy tongue caressing and stroking your face, leaving oily slick in place of your tears.

 **“How’s it feel? Just like your dream, right?”** he sneered, and you had to conceal a sob at the confirmation that everything you’d experienced that night was, in fact, real. **“It’ll feel even better now that you’re awake.”**

Jack’s right hand became all black ooze as it reached forward to rip your dress from your body like it was nothing, mere tissue paper that couldn’t protect you from the assault that was to come. After displaying such strength, he was surely mocking you by being delicate as he plucked your undergarments off next. You tried to pretend you didn’t notice him pocketing your panties. His one exposed human eye looked dull and emotionless as he closed the distance between you and him, deftly undoing his belt. “Our deal, Reaper. You can have whatever you want as long as you give me the mouth.”

 **“Yes, sir,”** Reaper retorted in a snide tone, lowering you back onto the ground until you were on your knees and staring up at Jack’s mostly inhuman form. Only when he got to see the fear on your face did he crack a smile, terrifyingly unstable and not at all resembling the kind and charming smile you’d come to know. Your eyes followed the tip of his heavy cock, flushed red and leaking, as he held it over your face and tapped your slack lips with it.

“I always thought you had the prettiest lips,” he whispered, and you only gained the sense to take a breath once he forced himself into your mouth. You gasped against him and the action pulled a groan from his throat, only encouraging him to keep pushing you further past your limits of comfort. He was going faster and harder than you could take, so you reached up to try to brace yourself against his thighs. Black tentacles immediately seized your arms and held them tight behind your back, returning your attention to Reaper.

 **“Jack wouldn’t let me finish that night but now,”** Reaper rasped, forming a clawed hand from his overall amorphous body so he could pet the back of your head. **“I can do whatever I want with you.”**

When Reaper grabbed and groped your vulnerable body it was just like your dream, but so much worse because you were now fully cognizant to experience it all. Two tentacles wrapped themselves tight around your breasts, the blunt tips prodding and teasing your nipples into two hard peaks, while dozens more appendages grabbed onto your thighs and spread them. This time you weren’t aroused in the slightest, but the generous lubrication that coated a particularly large tendril more than made up for that. It slid itself against your puffy lips and up to your clit until you were slick enough for entry.

You squealed around Jack’s cock when you felt Reaper sink deep inside of you. The blunt end of the tentacle went as far as it could go until it kissed your womb, at which point it rocked back and forth in an almost sensual manner. You weren’t sure if you should be grateful or sickened by Reaper’s apparent attempt to be gentle with you now that you knew just how twisted he and his host truly were. Soon enough you hardly had the capacity to think once the tendril began roughly working itself in and out of your slick cunt, pounding hard against your cervix with each thrust. The motion forced you further against Jack’s pelvis and made you swallow up more than you could take, much to his delight. The feeling of you gagging and sputtering on his cock put a wicked smile on his face as he grabbed either side of your head and held you there.

More and more tentacles seemed to be sprouting from Reaper’s overbearing form, wrapping around you in what you thought was just an attempt to hold you still. But as they twisted around your torso and your limbs, melting together into an inseparable sheet, you were brought back to your dream and the sensation of this black mass trying to swallow you whole.

Just as in your dream, Reaper stopped right at your neck. This time you could feel him pushing back against you ever so slightly, just enough for you to really feel your throat’s resistance against Jack’s cock. It was like he was helping his host to a faster orgasm, as Jack soon pulled out and finished on your face. He hooked a thumb over your jaw so the last few drops of his release landed on the center of your tongue, and he wouldn’t let go of you until you swallowed.

Reaper apparently took that as the cue to finish up as well. The black mass around your stomach pushed inward just as he emptied himself directly into your womb, forcing you to feel yourself get pumped full of his come. The sensation of your stomach expanding just the slightest bit in an effort to accommodate everything was disconcerting, but not nearly as chilling as watching Reaper’s face extend from your shoulder so he could look directly at you.

Too preoccupied with the dizzying feeling of getting filled up, you could hardly focus on him. His tongue snaked out of his mouth to wrap around your chin and hold you still, and you thought you were going to be sick when you saw the wide smiles on both his and his host’s faces. **“I think she’s taking well to me.”**

“Just like I predicted,” Jack murmured, crouching down so he could get a better look at you. You only saw his eyes gleam that same silver and gray you’d seen earlier before your own eyes rolled to the back of your head. “All those months of observing her are finally paying off. She’s going to be perfect.”


End file.
